


BABY STORIES THAT I WANT TO MOTHER

by Blue_Writes



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Vikings, Alternate Universe - Zombies, Alternative Universe - Kingdom, Don't expect time line or Canon stuff, Dragons, F/F, F/M, I'm gonna add more as I go, barely any timeline/cannon stuff, this is what happens when my brain has too much coffee
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2020-03-09 01:53:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18907108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Writes/pseuds/Blue_Writes
Summary: HERE IS A COLLECTION OF ALL THE SMALLER LESS FLESHED OUT STORIES THAT I GET DISTRACTED BY. TRUTH BE TOLD MY BRAIN WORKS OVER TIME AND WANTS TO WRITE EVERYTHING BUT CAN NEVER GET PAST THE FIRST CHAPTER.A LOT OF THESE ARE EDITED TO SOME DEGREE BUT ALSO WILL POSSIBLY BE SHIT BUT I WILL WARN YOU THERE IS VIOLENCE, DEATH, LANGUAGE AND SHITTING WRITING IDK IF THAT'S A WARNING BUT THERE YOU GO.I AM FROM THE UK SO PLEASE DO IGNORE SOME GRAMMATICAL ISSUES CAUSE ITS DIFFERENT IN THE UK AND THE US APPARENTLY.





	1. Gun In My Hand | Zombie AU

"Time to go Tauriel," Tola called to the 14-year-old girl. The two had holed themselves in the back room of the gas and sip a few miles from the city. During the first few weeks of the end of the world, military squads crawled the streets, looking to fill anything that moved with holes.

Then the military left survivors inside the quarantine zone to fend for themselves. The camp that Tola thought was safe enough soon turned into a war zone between its greedy leader. Its occupants began to barricade the gate.

Tola trudged along the outer-city streets with Tauriel close behind. The younger girl had a knife in her boot, a bow on her shoulder and who knows how many arrows sticking out of her open backpack. Tola carried a machete on her belt and a handgun in the waistband of her jeans under her shirt. They'd taken the weapons from the dead or hardware stores. Tola wasn't as confident with the gun as Tauriel was with her bow and arrows.

The packs they had on their backs held a worryingly small amount of food, spare shirts, duct-tape and a med-kit packed with the bare minimum.

"Are we there yet?" Tauriel asked quickening her steps to keep up with her aunts.

"Almost," Tola answered pitching her pack higher on her shoulder as she glanced around another street corner. "We're low on food and water. Keep an eye out," Tola added carefully watching as her niece tried to balance herself on the painted lines lining the middle of the road.

"It's hot out," Tauriel commented keeping her eyes trained on the white lines. "We can make a solar still," Tauriel offered offhandedly.

The city streets were silent as the grave with pieces of debris scattered across the roads leading out of the heart of the city. Most side streets had abandoned cars as most businesses and apartment complexes had their doors thrust open. Looking like they'd been gutted and picked clean of everything that had or would be useful.

Tola and Tauriel walked the centre line of the road with bladed weapons drawn. Either of them knew what to expect when it came to cities. The possibility of larger groups was always a worry that weighed on heavily on Tola's mind. "Here," Tauriel spoke catching her aunts attention as she produced a list from her pocket and carefully ripped it in half where to oldest fold sat.

"What's this?" Tola asked stopping dead in her tracks. She wasn't sure when Tauriel had taken the time or supplies to even think about writing a list.

"Just the usual. Peanut butter, dried fruit, canned food and any multi-vitamins. You know the Basics." Tauriel huffed hitching her pack higher on her back leaving her aunt to stand in the middle on the road.

"Crunchy or smooth?" Tola jokes as she started walking again. "I'm just saying." Tauriel shrugged and giggled at the question. "Pick a side." Tola felt that it was her job to keep Tauriel alive and safe as her parents weren't there to do it anymore.

~~

Carefully trying not to jostle the girl, Tola adjusted her grip on her knees as Tauriel hung to her back like a baby monkey. The quicker Tola walked, the more Tauriel moaned and groaned in pain. "You're okay," She muttered out of breath from running as well as carrying Tauriel. "We're gonna get you fixed up and back on the road." She continued to mutter.

If anyone came across the two girls, they'd assume that Tauriel was infected and Tola had left her mind in the old world. Dirt and grime caked Tola's legs and Tauriel's back. It made them almost unrecognisable.

The pair ran into trouble in the city. When the first gunshot went off in the direction that Tauriel had gone in. Tola's heart was in her throat threatening to burst at the sight of Tauriel bleeding out with a larger man dressed in a military uniform standing over her.

"You should save ammunition," Tola spoke dangerously, pointing her gun at the man. While glancing periodically at Tauriel making sure she was still alive, breathing and awake.

"I'll save you the bullet," He answered pressing the muzzle of his gun into Tauriel's forehead.

Tola barely blinked as she squeezed the trigger of her gun. Shocking herself, Tola put the pistol away and hauled Tauriel up onto her back.

Now Tola could feel the wetness on her back grown more and more. She had walked straight out of the city and into the wilderness with one less pack, and injured niece and a spare shirt stemming the bleed flow.

The thicket grew denser and more concerning. Tola felt exposed and with every twig snap, she became more and more aware of how defenceless she was with Tauriel clinging to her back. The murder of the man didn't surprise Tola as much now as it did in that moment, she'd chalked it up to protecting her little girl. Her family.

"Fili. Kili. Be careful and stay in sight," A woman's voice called out over the trees. Tol froze at the sound of the woman's voice, feeling Tauriels heavy breaths on the back of her neck renewed the worry in Tola's mind. Tola dropped the pack and helped Tauriel slid off of her back and guided her against a nearby tree.

"How are you feeling?" Tola asked the younger girl. She knew that Tauriel wasn't doing so well but checking in on her was better than nothing. Tauriel sat against the tree. Her hands pressed firmly against the darkening red patch on the stark white fabric around the middle of her thigh to stem the bleeding farther.

"Is everything supposed to be spinning?" Tauriel asked through clenched teeth as she wiped away some of her tears. "I'm scared auntie," Tauriel whispered as her vision began to darken and blur.

"Don't close your eyes," Tola offered. Patting Tauriels cheek to keep her eyes open and focused. "Stay with me." Tola muttered looking back the way they'd come and forward to the only way they could go towards the woman's voice.

_snap, snap, snap_

Tola immediately reached for her gun poison doing it in the direction of the noise, with wide eyes and shifting herself between the possible danger and Tauriel almost keeping her out of view.

Two teenagers were standing a few feet away whispering to one another, as far as Tola could tell they were both the same age. When the blond ran off in the other direction, Tola noticed the Ered Luin high printed on the back of his hoodie.

"Hey, we need help." Tola stuttered placing a hand on Tauriels shoulder and holding the gun up for the teenager to see as she threw it to the ground between them. "Are your parent's around?" Tola asked.

"Can I speak to them?" Tola asked him again noticing the blond and a taller much stronger looking man walking towards her and Tauriel.

"The adults say we're not supposed to talk to strangers," The teen frowned as he looked back at the blond and the taller man, who said nothing before both teens sprinted off in the opposite direction.

"It's my niece, she got shot," Tola stated watching teenagers disappear, and the taller man stepped closer. "I may have killed a man!" Tola continued barely breathing in between sentences.


	2. Untitled | Alternative Universe : Vikings

The sky looked like an overturned clay bowl had been put over the world, trapping the living in the realm. The town of Lincoln was in the south-west of the kingdom of Lindsey. Lincoln itself was large, known for being a trade centre as well as issuing coins from their coin mints. 

 

Large dark wooden structures lined the streets in misshapen blocks that were occasionally intercepted by bridges held up by archways high enough for large carts to coast under with room to spare. The white warhorse trotted down the street with its spear-wielding rider sitting ramrod straight, searching the faces for the man she'd been tracking.

 

Maur Herulfson was a man, hunted across Mercia and the far east where two chieftains' wanted him. The first wanted him alive, and the other wanted his head on a pike. The rider watched the townspeople milling around; fathers, sons and brothers worked stalls and pulled carts while mothers, daughters and sisters walked together keeping each other close, despite everyone knowing almost everyone. 

 

The stalls looked as if they were muted in colour as she rode past, her grip tightened on her spear in a white knuckle grip as frustration coursed through her. Growling under her breath, the horse stopped itself at an intersection where the street split into three more winding streets. The horse pawed at the ground pulling up clumps of mud, as the rider decided where to look for Maur. She'd been trailing Maur since he'd left the kingdom of Wessex in haste. She almost laughed at the poor effort he'd made to cover his tracks. Hoofprints marked the grassy hills and the less travelled paths, led the hunter to Maur in a matter of days.

 

A priest trudged down the street towards the white horse and dark-haired rider. He carried a rosary; slowly running it through his fingers muttering a prayer for each bead. He stopped abruptly to exchange pleasantries with a passing woman then he saw her. "Death rides an ashen horse with hades at its heels," The priest muttered turning away from the rider and back towards the church.

 

Hurrying down the street, the priest made a beamline for the holy ground, his prayers had increased in number and where pleading. Before long he noticed the disappearance of the rider like it wasn't there minutes earlier. Frantically, knocking on the church doors the priest burst into the halls, startling many that were silently tending to their work.

 

The head of the church watched the younger priest as he stressed and ushered him into a quiet more secluded part of the church, where they couldn't be disturbed. "What is the matter with you, boy?" Acton asked gently placing his hands on the priest's shoulders in a calming but reassuring manner.

 

"There's a woman on a white horse," Brant began to explain fluttering his hands around to explain himself, his rosary clicking as he did so. "She was just as the Khazad described father," Brant exclaimed distress rising in him again. He took in Acton's expression it barely gave anything. Brant questioned how Father Acton could be so calm there was a suspected 'devourer' and 'chaotic spirit' amongst the population.

 

Both Father Acton and Brant left the quiet corner of the church and ventured down to the small out of the way library. The Khazad had been put there to keep him out of sight and out of mind. Father Acton hoped the Khazad had taken time to busy himself or even attempt to read some of the books on the surrounding shelves.

 

Opening the door to the library; their attention was immediately on the Khazad. He surrounded himself with books. He looked as if he was reading until he began flicking through the book pages looking at pictures if there were any. "I trust we haven't been boring you." Father Acton spoke fist because Brant still looked beside himself as well as if he was going to shit himself if the Khazad so much as looked at him. 

 

"Why do you wash the babe?" Maur asked confused, some hours ago he'd come across some things that the Karlmenn and Kvenflólk did. "What is the need?" He asked, his pronunciation of the words was a little off and heavily accented.

 

Brant opened his mouth but thought better of it when he saw the expression on Father Acton's face was akin to a glare or a look that a mother would give a troublesome child. "Its to welcome them and so that heaven knows who they are when they arrive," Acton answered explaining the churches ways and traditions to the Khazad even as confusion flickered across Maur's face again. "Do your people not 'wash' their children?" Acton asked almost immediately following his original answer.

 

"Not exactly," The Khazad replied, closing the book and clumsily tossing it on the stack next to him. "I don't know what your word is but the babe is left till the father claims it then the Ausa Vatni and the Nafnfasti begin," Maur explained motioning to his coat and other things when he wasn't sure how to communicate the words without using the ones on the tip of his tongue.

 

Both men were actively baffled as they tried to piece together what was just described. Brant turned to ask Acton if he understood what he'd heard. "I told you they were animals," A woman's voice hissed startling the men bringing their attention towards the small door leading into the rest of the church. 

 

"Lady Lobelia," Brant greeted bowing his head a little to her, while Father Acton smiled widely in greeting. "What brings you-" Brant began to ask as Father Acton settled next to the Khazad and spoke with him in hushed tones as if he was explaining the churches traditions in more detail to the Khazad. 

 

"The lord requested an audience with you," Lobelia said quickly without emotion but managed to cut Brant off then turned on her heel almost expecting Brant to follow after her immediately. "You've not done anything wrong, just yet?" Lobelia added with a small smirk playing on her lips.  

 

As the day dragged on the rider left her horse tethered outside the inn. She had purchased a room and board for the remainder of the week. Soon the grey clay sky turned into a dark blanket speckled with dark clouds, as the rain poured it showed no signs of stopping. The rider trudged along the street sloshing through the mud, as it clung to her person. 

 

In the distance, through the heavy rain, the hunter spotted Maur. But he was dressed differently like the men she'd seen rush inside their stone buildings wth the crosses on top of the pointed rooves. He looked different from the mental picture that was given to her when asking about him before he came to Lincoln. 

 

The hunter scoffed as she watched him almost struggle to walk in the long robes. She almost appreciated his attempt to hide and make it harder and all the more frustrating on her part. Tightening her grip on the spear, she continued to watch Maur with narrowed and almost predatory eyes. Anyone who crossed the scene would think she was more animal than a woman.

 

"Maur!" She boomed in accented English as he rain poured, her hair and clothes stook to her like as a second skin. The paint in her hair and on her face had long since washed away with the rain.

 

At the sound of his name, Maur turned to the woman standing in the rain feet away from him. Her voice echoed through the night, cutting through the rain and into him. "Do I know you?" Maur asked as the woman began to close the distance between them. 

 

"The gods are angry with you," She jeered, pointing at him with the point of her spear. "Fortune does not bode well for you, my friend." The hunter continued now standing to to to with Maur.

 

"Depends which gods," Maur answered her honestly even as the woman's eyes seemed to narrow even more than they already had. "Why are you here?" He asked, glancing around him as if he was looking for a way out or to distract the woman. 

 

The hunter grinned at the question yet didn't give him an answer. She'd began to play with him as she circled him like a wolf would its prey. Maur turned to look at her every time she left his field of view. "I think you know who wants you," She spat harshly in his tongue. Maur opened his mouth to speak then closed it again, as if he was refusing to acknowledge the sentence. "Do you not speak anymore. I heard you did plenty." She growled at him and his refusal to speak still stood. "I'll let Dain deal with you."

 

"You can't!" He snapped at her. The hunter sensed his fear, and it excited her more than anything else. Looking at him questioningly the hunger wondered what he meant by the statement; he'd been in town a matter of days. "I joined the church and left that life behind." He chattered stumbling over his words as he tried to get rid of the woman. 

 

The hunter shrugged; the rain still pounded against her body darkening her clothes even farther. She faked a slight grimace and with as much strength as she could muster, the hunter struck Maur on the side of the head. 

 

The hunter watched Maur groan and slump to the muddy ground. She, herself then made a noise of disapproval when she realised she hadn't thought her plan out very well. The hunter wordlessly hauled the unconscious man into her arms and glanced around for anyone that could stop her from taking him to face his judgement. 

 

The slow sloping hills shrouded by a thick mist as the once white horse now trotted along carelessly even with Maur hunt limply over its rear. The hunter held on to the reins with one hand and held her spear; barely taking notice of how Maur bounced and jostled on the back of her horse. 

 

The three were currently three days outside of Lincoln and were somewhere between Wiltun and Exanceater. They were heading to Cornwalum where Maur's judgement was waiting for since the rider had taken the hunt for herself. 

 

The trail they walked was open to the elements except for a few trees that sparsely stuck out of the thick mist like warriors waiting for the first scream of war. Overhead a flock of crows filtered across the sky cawing as if they were guiding the rider west to Cornwalum. 

 

"You never did tell me your name." Maur wheezed as the horse crossed over a particularly rough patch of the road. 

 

"Quiet." 

 

"Can I at least get on the horse?" He asked as the horse whined and bucked its rear causing Maur to fall and hit the ground with a heavy groan and a wheeze. 

 

The rider huffed pulling the horse to a halt, annoyed she threw her spear into the ground; pushing herself off of the horse. "Up!" She hissed, pulling Maur up by his arm and shoving him towards the horse. "Or you can walk." She continued to hiss as she seated herself back on the horse. Waiting for him, she pulled the spear from the ground. 

 

"How much are you getting paid for this?" he asked as the rider rode in silence keeping her eyes on the road barely acknowledging his question. 

 

The rider made no move to stop and make a camp of any sort when night began to fall even as they reached the beginnings of the Uisc river as the Danes called it. 

 

"Shouldn't we stop for the night?" Maur asked fighting to keep his balance even as he had nothing to grab onto and wasn't going to risk using the woman as an anchor. 

 

"No time," she growled; pushing the horse to move farther as in took a few steps in the Uisc. The rider tried to ignore the rest of the onslaught of questions as they moved through the river. 

 

"I don't think you know what you're doing," Maur stated with a tone laced with a fierce confidence that would have made anyone jealous. The rider flicked her spear into Maur's side, knocking him off of the horse and into the icy river water. 

 

Growling under her breath with rage flowing, she gripped Maur by the fabric of his robes. Holding him under the rushing water then pulled him back up barely, allowing him time to breathe. She pulled him back up a final time with her fists tightening their grip on his robes. "Do not challenge me!" She snapped as Maur choked and spluttered trying to get the water out of his throat and lungs. 

 

Standing in the water; the rider hadn't noticed the ice-cold water soaking her trousers and sloshing into her boots. While Maur still sat in the water with his hands bound. "You walk from here," She started climbing back onto the horse and taking off out of the water and towards the base of the next steep hill. "Come!" She yelled to Maur; waiting for him to join her. 

 

 


	3. If I Had A Heart | Alternate Universe - Dragons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS UNEDITED AND HALF FINISHED. PLEASE DO FORGIVE GRAMMATICAL ERRORS. THANK YOU

Louisa sat at the large dark oak table surrounded by the Lord's hands and advisors babbling about issues that Lovisa shouldn't be knowledgable of. Lord Lythur had insisted that she sit in on at least one of his council meetings. Lovisa leaned towards Lythur, "My Lord forgive me but I fail to see my need to be here," Lovisa whispered shivering a little when Lythur met her eyes. The look he gave made her uncomfortable and nervous. 

 

"Is it wrong for me to want to get aquatinted with my daughter-in-law?" He asked with a small unidentifiable lilt in his voice that only made Lovisa more uncomfortable. "We certainly haven't had a chance you fully understand one another. Have we." He continued with a statement rather than a question or an observation. 

 

Lovisa swallowed the nervous lump in her throat and fisted the fabrics of her dress in an attempt to ground herself. "No, we haven't," Lovisa admitted, the truth was she hadn't met anyone of house Muninn purely because Alvar, Lovisa's current husband, hadn't mentioned it ever and was always closed off at the idea of family. "Alvar speaks highly of you all though." Lovisa forced a gentle smile in hopes of deterring the conversation completely. 

 

"Why would a Bastard speak so highly of us?" Lythur dismissed the statement to answer with a question. Lovisa cast her eyes to her hands in her lap or to the piles of paper sitting on the tables. She ignored the question completely because it was bad form for her to speak ill of her new marriage. It would only invite tragedies and loss as her mother would say. "Why!" Lythur yelled at first slamming his fist on the table in front of him. The room fell silent at the echoed thump, no one spoke even as Lythur gripped Lovisa's chin and turned her head to look at him as he continued trailing off in places. "I believe it is sufficiently...rude...to ignore someone." 

 

"Apologies my Lord," Lovisa began to apologise moving her head to dislodge Lythurs grip on her face. "My mind seems to have...drifted," Lovisa added attempting to add an explanation before one was requested.

 

Lovisa's hand immediately drifted to her stomach, the small bump was finally beginning to show and Lovisa was almost constantly praying that no one noticed so soon after the marriage. Lovisa herself was 11 months pregnant and nearing the end of her twelfth meaning that the little boy or girl inside of her was taking its time to be ready to greet the world.

 

The twelfth month past far faster than Lovisa originally had expected it to. Soon she was giving birth to her baby, clinging on to anyone who offered a hand for her to hold. Hearing the baby's cries and gurgles made all the pain worth it.

 

"He's beautiful," Alvar commented as the wiggling baby gripped his ring ringer with an adorable weakness that warmed his heart. Lovisa sat in bed with a midwife in either side of her, they'd told her to take the next few weeks, months, even easy. Lovisa watched her husband hand her baby over to a maid; smiled brightly and thanked him. "Just like his mother." He continued smiling lovingly at the woman and his baby.

 

The woman holding the baby disappeared out of the door even as the baby began wailing and struggling with everything she had. "Alvar? Where is she going?" Lovisa asked concerned. The midwives could see her heartbreaking as they watched Lovisa quickly and clumsily ease herself to the edge of the bed.   

 

Lovisa's mother, Cadadra had insisted that at least two familiar faces go with Lovisa and noW they were acting at her midwives. Neither of the women moved to stop her, neither of them wanted to witness a new mothers rage as her baby was taken away and given to someone else. They simply looked on as another lady took the Lovisa's baby boy and left. "That's my baby..." Lovisa whispered sadly and weakly as she stumbled a few feet. 

 

Alvar caught Lovisa and allowed her to use his hands as support. "Somewhere. That's all," He spoke softly as if he was trying to reassure her. Lovisa didn't hear him speaking. Alvar spoke softly as he squeezed Lovisa's hands when he spoke. "She can take better care of it than we can." She saw his lips moving but saw disinterest and dismissing in his eyes, she'd seen the same look in his father when he looked at anyone that wasn't his wife and daughter.

 

Lovisa frowned at him as her anger sparked. Lovisa had been raised to believe that every child old or young was a blessing from the Valar. "That it! Is my son!" She began to rage giving Alvar a hard shove that left her breathless and on her knees, both of the midwives rushed to her. "Go. Be with your whore!" She yelled ignoring the promoted whispers telling her to stay calm, Lovisa was sure many had heard her yelling. 

 

Watching her husband leave, Lovisa allowed the women to help her back into her bed. Once she was settled that was when the tears started to fall. "Keres." Lovisa sniffed reaching for her closest and oldest friend and gripped her arm. Keres was a beautiful girl, a dark-haired and dark-eyed it all complimented her light brown skin. 

 

Keres wrapped Lovisa up in her arms, soothing her friend. Keres rubbed circles on ner back as Lovisa sobbed loudly into her shoulder. "Keep her company," Keres said softly as she let got of Lovisa to stand at her full height. "I'll be back soon."

 

Both Imire and Arryn moved to replace Keres soothing their friend while watching Keres move across the room. "What are you going to do?" Arryn asked with a slight southern accent and was answered with the sound of doors slamming open and closed. 

 

Keres walked through the hold with her hands clasped tightly behind her back and a calm face masking her feelings. Many of the staff stationed through the halls pointed her in the direction that Alvar had stomped off in. Most had heard and they were either congratulating the new parents or even cursing Lovisa for allowing him to take her baby.

 

Keres found Alvar standing on a balcony overlooking the cliffside and the ocean. It was where he had asked Lovisa the marry him. "Have all your whores abandoned you?" Keres asked knowing the Alvare was known for his abundant adventures in the bedroom with many women. 

 

"I don't think we know each other." He commented keeping his back to Keres. "Aren't you the midwife? Shouldn't you be doing mid-wifey things?" Alvar asked questioned as Keres clenched her jaw as turned to her with a shit-eating grin plastered in his face. 

 

"You are playing a dangerous game," Keres spat at him hoping to wipe the grin off of his face and make it stop taunting her. "without so much as a  _glimpse_ into the rule book." Keres shivered in her frustration even with the cold wind rolling across the balcony. 

 

Alvar went back to the same bed he shared with Lovisa and acted as if she hadn't just had a baby. Lovisa smiled down at Alvar, she'd been left to stew in her anger and grief all day. Any other man would have considered it dangerous to attempt to get into Lovisa's bed. "This is the first and last time you will take anything from me," Lovisa muttered as she drew shapes on the bare skin of Alvars chest with a feather-light touch.

 

Alvar grinned wide, it felt like a grin without any remorse or guilt in it. "What have I taken from you that wasn't already mine?" Alvar asked as if he had a claim on everything that Lovisa had. Lovisa flinched as he pressed a firm kiss to her forehead, he attempted to roll her under him. Lovisa used all of the strength she had to roll them over, she'd settled herself comfortably on top of his thighs with the sheets pooling around her waist. She looked down at him with fiery hate masked with a faulty lust. 

 

Lovisa's mask slipped slowly as a roar like thunder rumbled through the window, Lovisa grinned looking down at her husband. She felt his hands settle on her blanket-covered thighs even as she gripped the dagger hidden in the bodice of her night-shirt as she scoffed. "My son and my dragon!" Lovisa growled as she raised the dagger above her head, watching Alvar's eyes fill with fear made her feel powerful. 

 

No regrets she told herself as the dagger plunged into Alvars chest time and time again. Blood had stained the sheets, Lovisa's hands and her clothes; his wounds bled as he grew pale and cold. "The Valar do not weep for you," She whispered twisting the blade protruding from his chest with a sickening wet squelch. "And neither shall I." Lovisa

sat calmer observing her work as Alvar gurgled and stared wide-eyed. She leaned down, closer to Alvar, brushing her lips against his in one final goodbye. 

 

The Wyvern circled the kingdom, around his neck hung a thick metal collar. He was pale and had scales missing in places, any other rider could tell that the beast had been mistreated. Old scars criss-crossed the Wyverns chest and underbelly. The clunky metal collar was used to keep him tethered to the rocky raves bellow the hold. He shared the same fiery rage with his rider. 

 

He'd chosen Lovisa as his rider because of the strength he felt coming from her even if she hadn't found it just yet. The moment he'd broken from his restraints wrath whirled in his chest. As he took off into the sky he was hit with an overwhelming sadness that lay under every other emotion. He'd made it his mission to take back his rider and keep her even if it meant burning everything. 

 

The healer quietly bound Lovisa's hands. Before calling for help, Lovisa had given herself a few minor injuries to make the idea of assassination believable. Then they'd found her crying and clutching at Alvars barely warm body. "It's not your fault." The healer offered gently as she wrapped the clean bandaged around Lovisa's hand. 

 

Lovisa gave the healer a teary-eyed look of hurt as she offered her other hand to be bandaged. "Do you know what the Lady's role is?" Lovisa asked rhetorically she barely expected an answer half the time she asked any questions. "The role of the lady is to protect the Lord. If I fail then it is my fault," Lovisa spoke faking a watery tone to compliment the red-rimmed eyes and dried tears on her cheeks.

 

Finishing up the treatment the healer began to gather her belongings and the bowl of water. "My apologies, my lady. I'll pray that he has safe passage." She apologised as she turned to leave. 

 

Lovisa was alone into the bedroom, she'd been tended to and cleaned up and now she was waiting for Keres, Imire and Arryn. Moving to stand on the balcony, Lovisa was able to see all of Murton hold in all its stone glory. It was different from home in the sense that none of its structure was built into the hill surrounding the keep and lake. None of it was hers anyway; Lythur was still Lord and Alvar was a bastard. The wind rolled and whistled gently as if it was calling Lovisa home. 

 

"What happened?" Arryn asked wrapping her arms around herself, trying to keep some warmth in. She frowned when she noticed the red-stained bandages wrapping Lovia's hands under the dim touch lights. "What did you do?" She asked alarmed reaching for Lovisa's hands and began trying to peek through the bandages without reopening the wounds. 

 

"I killed him," Lovisa replied stone-faced and motionless even when the youngest of Lythurs children began to scream and wail. It ripped through the night and the Palace alerting anyone living inside the walls that something was wrong. Lovisa wasn't allowing any guilt to wriggle its way through the cracks in her heart; not when she was emotional, angry and ready to leave and never return. "He took everything from me," Lovisa growled tightening her grip on Arryn's hands. "He tried to...claim...it all as his own." Lovisa continued snarling and trailing off occasionally. 

 

Arryn listened to her friend growling, snarling and cursing her late husband but still, Arryn listened even if it scared her. "Then why not kill them all?" Arryn asked wondering how far Lovisa was willing to go or going to go in her wrath. 

 

Lovisa's brows drew into a frown as she looked at Arryn almost asking if she was serious. "One revenge killing doesn't equal the end of a line," Lovisa responded firmly wrapping her arm around Arryn's shoulder offering to share some body heat. "Falling to his level makes us worse than him," Lovisa whispered as if she only wanted Arry and the wind to hear her.

 

The sound of claws scratching and digging into stone caught the women's attention. Nummer, Lovisa's wyvern, was perched on the edge of the roof putting his mistreatment on display for anyone to see. "They have no respect for him and would better see him in chains." Lovisa allowed distaining to bleed into her tone. With every movement, Numir's restraints clinked together even as he hunkered down on his hunches as released an ear-piercing roar. 

 

"The Lords granted you leave, my lady," A man spoke clear and loud for both Arryn and Lovisa to hear. He had long brown hair and a singular braid, Lovisa recognised him as Avaldur, Lythurs eldest son and only legitimate heir to his lordship. 

 

"Thank you. Lord Lythur and his family have been nothing but accommodating," Lovisa answered holding her tongue in what she wanted to say. Bringing Arryn closer and allowed her voice to wobble and waver, Lovisa had to keep the innocent act up for a few more days maybe weeks. 

 

Avaldur nodded slowly and continued to stand in the doorway leaving out onto the balcony. "I'm sorry- I know my brother was...whorish but-"

 

"But nothing." Keres angrily cut him off, gracefully moving around Avaldur to put herself between Lovisa, Arryn and Avaldur. "Do let his lordship know that my lady will be leaving at the end of the week regardless of the funeral," Keres stated firmly as her sense of decorum reared is head for propriety sake. 

 

Avaldur bowed dramatically and turned to leave only to collide with Imire. She stood looking as if she'd only just decided to get herself ready to sleep. She frowned at him as he stepped around her and left quietly almost as if he was trying to be silent. "Couldn't you have sugar-coated it a little?" Imire questioned with a lazy smirk stretched across her face. 

 

"But the truth is so much more interesting," Keres answered laughing quietly. She could be as blunt as she liked and not sugar-coating anything. It was one of her many qualities that Lovisa adored. 

**Author's Note:**

> ALSO HERE IS MY TUMBLR [MY TUMBLR](https://blue-writes-a03.tumblr.com)


End file.
